Coldy Companions
by Loopstagirl
Summary: Gordon doesn't often get to look after one brother, let alone two.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners._

_Happy belated birthday, Darkflame's Pyre! Hope this is what you wanted!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

"Virgil, come on, get up." Gordon tugged at the covers his brother was buried under. He had been knocking on the man's door for almost twenty minutes only to recieve no response. Usually, Gordon knew better than to try and wake Virgil, but his whole plan for the day revolved around his brother. He pulled again at the blankets, wondering how Virgil had such a tight hold on them if he was indeed still asleep.

Eventually, Gordon gave up and sat down on the edge of the bed. "C'mon, Virg, you promised we would go through the checks together."

Gordon didn't particularly care if it sounded like he was whining. It was the one thing he got to do with Virgil without any of the others interfering and he didn't intend missing out on it just because his big brother didn't want to get out of bed. His words seemed to have more of an impact than tugging on the covers had done, for there was a rustle as Virgil stirred. Gordon watched closely, ready to grab the blanket the second Virgil appeared so he couldn't bury himself again.

But when Virgil did emerge, Gordon felt his plan go out of the window. His brother's eyes were rimmed red, as was his nose and Virgil seemed to peer blearily at him for a long moment.

"Go 'way," he muttered, his voice hoarse before he fell back against the pillows again.

"Are you okay?" Gordon asked, knowing it was a stupid question even as he said it. Virgil simply sniffed at him in response and Gordon grimaced. That was not the answer he was hoping for. Considering they lived on a tropical island, colds were infrequent within the family. Still, Gordon had had more of his fair share to know this was a bad one and Virgil would no doubt be feeling awful.

"I'll let Grandma know," he whispered, standing up and inching out of the room again. He tried not to feel guilty about how long he had been pestering his brother for; it wasn't his fault Virgil was sick and it wasn't like he had _known_. He didn't need to look far in order to find his grandmother – all he had to do was head straight to the kitchen and there she was.

"Hey, Grandma, I think Virg is sick," Gordon announced, hitching himself onto a bar stool and watching her fuss about. It only took him a few seconds to realise everything she was pulling down from the cupboards were being placed on a tray. Gordon opened his mouth to ask if she already knew, but the old lady turned and fixed him with a calculating look. It was almost as if she was judging whether he could have caught something just because he knew about Virgil being ill.

"You already knew?" Gordon asked hesitantly. When she looked confused, he gestured towards the tray. It was the sort of thing she only ever did when one of them was ill.

"Oh no, dear, that's for Scott. He's got the most awful cold this morning, I found him coughing up his lungs after he tried to go for a run. Naturally, it's back to bed for him. Now, what is this about Virgil being sick as well?"

"I would say he had the same thing," Gordon muttered, inwardly groaning. It was bad enough when one of the brothers was ill, but two just made him want to tear his hair out. He knew they were setting themselves up for a day of having to be quiet and being snapped at every time he breathed too loudly. He just hoped that both brothers slept most of the day away – it meant they couldn't be complaining.

"Those boys," Grandma tutted. "If one has it, the other just has to have it as well, whether it is a new toy or a cold. Where on earth could they have picked up such a thing; no one else has had it."

Gordon thought for a moment as he tried to think about what those two had done that was different. He groaned. "They got soaked on that rescue the other day. The one where the tidal wave came out of nowhere and took them by surprise. I bet neither of them dried out the way they should have regardless of what they told each other."

"Then I think I'm going to be having a word with those boys about lying and looking after themselves," Grandma huffed. Gordon grinned, watching as she poured out a mug of tea, placed it on the tray and handed the whole thing to Gordon.

"You take that along to Scott while I fix one for Virgil. And no stealing anything of it, young man. Your brothers need to keep their appetites up; best way of defeating a cold."

Gordon simply grinned and made his way to the kitchen door. Once he got there, he glanced at the tray and then back to his grandmother. "You know Scott hates tea."

"He is not having coffee, he needs some proper rest. Besides, it has honey in it, he won't be complaining."

Gordon quickly moved along to his brother's room. Grandma was right; Scott might hate tea but he didn't mind it when it was sweetened. It was something they were only ever allowed when they were ill and Gordon had to stop himself from taking a quick sip before he reached Scott's room. He knocked on his brother's door gently, hearing a cough answer him. Deciding that was as close to permission as he was going to get, Gordon let himself in.

Scott was more awake than Virgil had been. He was propped up on his pillows at least, but the blankets were pulled high up under his chin and he looked so pathetically miserable as Gordon entered, the younger brother had to laugh.

"I bring breakfast," Gordon muttered, sliding it onto Scott's lap before swinging around his brother's chair and straddling it backwards. Scott looked at the tray.

"I hate tea."

"It's good for you."

"Grandma put you up to this, didn't she?"

"Maybe," Gordon shrugged innocently. "Or maybe I was a kind and considerate little brother and thought I would come and make you feel better."

"What distracted her?"

Gordon grinned. He should have known Scott would see straight through him. The only reason why their grandmother wouldn't have delivered a tray herself – especially considering it meant one of them was sick – was that something else had come up. Gordon reached over and tried to snag a piece of toast. Scott might have been sick but his reactions were still quick enough to slap his brother's hand away.

"Virgil's got the same thing," Gordon reported, rubbing his hand and glaring reproachfully at his brother. Scott picked up the toast himself.

"It was that soaking, wasn't it? He told me he had dried off properly and had made sure he was warm enough before flying home."

"I think you told him the same thing," Gordon said mildly. Scott blushed, although it was barely obvious against the flush already covering his face and neck. Gordon was never one for dishing out sympathy, but he did feel for his brothers. They both looked awful. Scott took a bite of his toast and managed to eat around a quarter before picking up the mug.

"Go on then, you can have the rest."

"You must be feeling awful," this time, there was no jest in Gordon's voice. Scott never left food, regardless of how much he had already eaten. The older brother simply shrugged, sipping at his drink instead. Only this time, Gordon didn't even stretch towards it.

"I am not being your alibi against Grandma," he told him firmly. He knew that was the only reason why Scott would let him eat the breakfast – it meant he could pretend he had. Judging by the way Scott's face fell, Gordon knew he had got it in one.

"Gords…"

"No." Gordon was quite impressed with how firm he could sound, especially considering the way his big brother was pouting at him with wide eyes. "You need to eat it or you need to face Grandma's wrath by yourself."

Gordon stood up and left. He knew if he didn't, Scott would somehow get him to agree to helping out before Gordon even realised what had happened. It didn't help the toast smelt so good as well; he wasn't sure how long he would be able to resist for. Leaving Scott looking miserable, Gordon found he was wandering back towards Virgil's room without truly noticing. It was only when he was staring at his brother's door did Gordon realise where he was.

Deciding now he was here he may as well enter, Gordon carefully opened the door. He didn't want to disturb Virgil again if his brother was still sleeping. This time, however, Virgil was indeed sitting up. Although the tray on his lap was still somewhat full and – just like Scott – Virgil was only sipping at his drink.

Gordon sighed as he sat back on Virgil's bed. "Well, I reckon you managed about a mouthful more than Scott."

"You can finish it if you want."

"I'll tell you what I told him. I'm not covering for you so Grandma doesn't notice."

"Spoilsport."

Gordon shook his head fondly. He spent a while with Virgil, then went back to Scott just in time to force his brother to go back to bed before fetching their grandmother. Scott didn't dare move again, not until much later in the afternoon. Both he and Virgil moved from their respective rooms and made it through to the lounge. That proved to be too much energy, however, and they both simply collapsed on sofas and flicked the TV on. Deciding that someone needed to keep an eye on them, Gordon set himself the task of playing doctor.

If he was honest, he knew he was winding them up by constantly checking every few minutes if they needed anything. But it was pay back for all of the times they had been overbearing when something was wrong with him. When he pointed that out, they both shut up from complaining and Gordon could only hope it meant they would calm down a bit on the smothering when they were better.

Once he had stopped them from complaining, Gordon found he actually quite enjoyed running around after them. He knew it wouldn't last and it was only because he had nothing better to do but he knew his grandmother was grateful when he kept appearing to get his brothers drinks and food when they wanted it. He made sure they knew, however, that it wasn't going to last. Scott's face fell when he said that and Gordon knew regardless of how bad his brother was feeling, he was enjoying making Gordon work for it.

He would have helped his grandmother when she appeared to tell them to go back to bed. Only both Scott and Virgil seemed to be rather positive about being able to sink back against their own pillows again. Not to mention Gordon was finding that keeping his own eyes open was beginning to be a little bit of a struggle. He was slumped in the chair, watching through half-closed eyes as Virgil and Scott hauled themselves up and began to head back towards their own rooms.

Gordon made a half-hearted effort to follow to make sure they went back to bed, but found that it was just too much effort. Deciding he had earned a nap for looking after them all day, he allowed his eyes to close, barely hearing the fond tut from his grandmother.

But an hour later, Gordon was awoken by a sneeze. For a moment, he could only sit there and try and regain his bearings. Then he realised that his nose was running and his head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool.

That was the last time he looked after sickly brothers.


End file.
